Lemon drops, mountain tops, and bears.

[Roughcountry]

Sure enjoying the trip    

The Lochsa country is my second favorite part of Idaho. My Dad was from the headwaters of the Snake River.

Waiting for more  

[Guru]

Great story telling from 3 of my Favorite TG'rs...awesome stuff fellas    

[AnointedArcher]

It sure does make me smile, great job guys  

[Charlie Lamb]

I'd rode up the mountain with Ted Fry in a little beast of a machine by Yamaha. It was so noisey that Ted handed me a role of toilet paper before starting and suggested I plug my ears... if I'd have known how noisey it was gonna be I'd have just jammed the whole damn role in my ear and asked for a second for the other ear.

And you sure didn't want to lay your arm on the console... that noisy sucker of an engine was under there and wasn't lacking in heat production either.

Our arrival during midday was hot dispite the snow which had blocked passage of our vehicles at the drop off point and which still lingered in the shady northern exposure places.

The fellas from the previous week spoke of hunting in shorts and long sweaty vigils. If that was so, then it was going to be a different kind of bear hunt for sure.
I was glad I had a Thermacell in my kit and expected it would see a lot of use.

[Charlie Lamb]

We'd come in on Sunday afternoon and would spend that time acclimating to the new country and settling in to our home for the week.

Accomodations were simple but about as scenic as a guy could ask for... here's home.

 

The view was stellar and it would be easy enough to while away the time between stand sets just sitting on the porch staring off at the mountainside dreaming of everything but the problems that may be raging at home and work of any kind.
 

[Charlie Lamb]

We'd barely settled into our home away from home when Ted drug out some aerial targets and threw down the gauntlet.

He had a couple dozen flu flu arrows in camp, several of the targets and a young son (Jesse) who was a willing target launcher.
 
 
Notice young Ty Green on the left of the picture. He gravitated to the bow as naturally as any young man I've seen and proved to be a fine shot in very short order.
He'd spend ever increasing time with the bow during the days that followed and it became apparent that the hook had been set.

Even Ty senior was sneaking in some practice time (away from his 7mm magnum)and would hunt with a recurve in the waning hours of the hunt.

Once burned by the attitude of some loud mouthed elitist stickbow shooter, Ty senior easilly accepted our low key bunch and you could see that the seeds of conversion had been sewn by weeks end... and that's the way you do it... keep the name calling out of the picture and let the bow do the talking.

[Marvin M.]

All right.  Bear Hunting with CK and Charlie!!

[Arrowslinger]

Keep it coming Charlie.

     

[Shaun]

Story time at the front porch

 

[Charlie Lamb]

I'll be back with more around noon... gotta get the yard under control.   :eek:      

Next trip I go on, I'm gonna put Roundup on the yard before I leave... should slow it down some.  

[geno]

24 minutes...Tick Tick Tick...

[Charlie Lamb]

Is it noon yet?  :D  

It seemed like an eternity before we finally set off to sit our baits for the first time. It gave me plenty of time to reminisce and revisit old feelings.

There's for sure a diffent feeling when you walk off into the woods after a bear. Hard to describe but I've seen it in a bunch of guys and experienced it myself a long time before.

I wondered how I'd feel off there in those strange mountains all by myself.
It didn't matter that I'd have been quite comfortable out there if I was deer hunting or elk hunting, but the focus was different.

We were after bears and we all know they eat people... right? Well, we're all a little more knowledgable than that, but there for sure is something primal and deep inside that touches a man when his quarry is bear.

Ted Fry walked me to my assigned bait and refreshed it's contents for me while I made myself at home in what might best be called a "hasty" ground blind.

There was a good blond bear working this bait and I was almost certain to get a shot. That and the fact that the shot from the blind to the bait was a little further than most was the reason I'd been chosen to sit here.

I appreciated the vote of confidence, but would have prefferred to be a little closer.
The distance was 21 steps,a distance that I was plenty comfortable at.

What I would find was that as the light began to dim the distance appeared to increase. I was sure my perspective would improve if only a bear would walk into the picture and give me something to look at.
 

Sorry for the quality of the photo... the new little digitals are handy as hell, but hard to hold steady at times.

You should be able to see the "bait ball" gizmo hanging above the bait pile.

[Charlie Lamb]

I don't think I'd been settled in for an hour. A steady breeze blew from my right to my left...I'd been told the bear should approach from behind the bait or off to either side of it... so the wind should have been fine.

A clearly defined trail angled up the steep mountainside and concluded at my blind. I'd spruced it up (pun intended) with a few cut boughs and a couple of saplings, so my cover was good.
If a bear came up that trail I'd have plenty of warning.

What I knew of bears told me that he'd most likely make his approach from the down wind side and that lacked a whole lot as far as being in my favor.

The bait and my blind sat astride a razorbacked ridge, with my blind slightly off to the side.
The very crest of the ridge was to my left and at eye level.
Anything coming from that side would be within a few feet of me before I could see it.
I didn't like that much, but you can't have it all I guess.

Anyway, an hour or so had passed when all of a sudden there was the sound of rotten log coming apart and sticks breaking... about 30 feet away over the ridge top and directly downwind.

Lets just say I became very alert, very fast. But it wasn't the sound of a feeding bear and it didn't sound like the retreat of an elk or moose.

It sounded like a bear who'd just winded me and got the hell out of Dodge.

Not another sound the rest of the evening even though I sat patiently until the fading light made an ethical shot impossible.
I eased out to the road to await my ride.

Back in camp I got the good news that Curtis had filled a tag and there had been other bear seen. I think young Ty Green shot his first bear with a rifle that night.

Everyone seemed in good spirits.

[whitebuffalo]

I admire your story tellin Charlie,,It sure is heplin me out missin compton and all..Thanks and keep it comming.

[Charlie Lamb]

As much as I hate to admit it, it punked out on the second day of the hunt. A steady rain had started that morning with a temperature drop of twenty degrees... we watched the temperature drop on the thermometer that hangs on the cook house porch.

I piled on an extra layer and was chilly even then. Soon I'd added another and by the time the guys had suited up and were heading for the timber, I had a roaring fire going in the woodburner back in the cabin.

Even with rain gear, I wasn't going to sit out in that crap and freeze my tookus off.
I did catch up on my sleep... much needed due to "truck lag".

My notes are incomplete, but I don't think anyone saw anything that night.

The third night of the hunt was a repeat of the second except someone did see a bear for a moment. The outfitter put Shaun on my bait since I wasn't using it. It was a bust for him and proved the wisdom of my wimpyness.    :D  

Over breakfast the fourth morning of the hunt I decided that rain or not, I was going to the woods.
Two nights was one thing, but I wasn't about to waste the whole hunt sitting in the cook house drinking coffee.
   

There would be no test of my resolve this day, however. The rain was growing less intense with each bite of morning fare and soon it would leave the mountains fresh and sparkling, although a trifle soggy.

We had been discussing bows (with the occasional comments about balistics for Ty senior's sake) with our meal when Gary (the outfitter) mentioned that he had a John Shulz "Natural" longbow.

For those of you that don't know, John Shulz was a former bowyer for Howard Hill and to my way of thinking the best that ever was...not just Howard Hill bowyers,but all bowyers. His work is amazing.

Anyway, after leaving Howard Hill Archery, John started producing his own line of bows under the name American Longbows. His Trophy Hunter series are superb longbows.
Finally John quit using fiberglass and started his "Natural" series of bamboo backed bamboo longbows.

I'd coveted one of those bows for some time and told Gary so.
He casually commented that the bow was out in his truck. I was thrilled.

Soon we had the bow in the cookhouse being handled and admired by everyone.
At 5'1" ntn, it's a shorty of a longbow. The draw length is for a shorty also, marked 60# @ 24" and was not something I'd ever draw to anchor... my draw with a longbow is 29".

It wasn't long and a couple of the guys had the bow out in the yard shooting the little speed demon.

Here's some pics of Curtis shooting the Shulz bow.

   
   
   

[Randy Morin]

Keep it comin Charlie...lovin-it!  

[Littlefeather]

We Bowhunters are a rare and interesting breed. What would ever possess a hunter to leave the comfort of a fir fire dancing seductively against a log cabin wall for the discomfort of snow and rain I'll never know.
The question certainly pecked away at me as Ted and I headed off in a half hearted attempt to fill my second tag. The gloom of a dreary and cold afternoon hung as heavy and thick as the drapery of clothing clinging loosly from my frame. The forrest was dark and my spirits were damp. The smells of wet, rotting earth and cedar invaded my sences and I felt myself drifting in and out on daydreams. I'd come to Idaho to hunt and it was these thoughts alone that pressed me forward into the evening.

As I sat in the low hung tree stand it continued to spit rain and snow.    


 As my many layers of clothing soaked through a layer at a time I found myself re-evaluating my time here. It's amazing how easily a hunter can become swallowed up in his own mind while nestled alone in a dark and cold place such as this. I looked down at my bow and wondered if I could even find the strength to draw my trusty friend if the time should come. I'd named her Artemis some years before, she was a Godess of the hunt. My Godess seemed to tremble in my hand as the snow begain to settle on her shoulders.

     


And it was here in the fleeting moments of daylight that I found myself alone in a place of shadows and silence as the shades were drawn on yet another day in the solice of these mountains. I'd shake off the snow and the cold and return to the flicker of firelight where I'd dream once again of what magic and promise tomorrow may hold.

     

[Shaun]

Nice form CK! He did take a little teasing about his habbit of putting his feet close together. But you won't find a much better shot. That Schultz bow sure looks sweet at full draw. I tried shooting it too and it was amazingly quick for a 24" pull. There was no 26" pull to it, specifically designed for the draw length. Charlie mentioned making bows of similar design someday, put me on the waiting list.

[PV]

That Shultz bow is a beautifull piece of workmanship. As Shaun mentioned amazingly quick for it's design.
For those of you who haven't seen it Sunbear is a fine example of Charlies craftmanship.
Spinning great yarns is just one of his talents.
Shauns horn bellied osage is a thing of beauty.

[paleFace]

gaz'n out the window of my office, for a minute i felt like i was right there with you guys. great story fella's and thanks for sharing. i'm dreaming of hunting out west again...      

"impatiently waiting on more food for the soul"